Beautiful World
by Chikaniwa
Summary: Somewhere in a different world, in a kingdom far away, what if Hilmes and Arslan grew up together as brothers? In this simple and normal world, happiness does exist for the two boys growing up together.
1. Prologue

Don't care if it's wrong or inaccurate or not canon and whatever logical reason you throw at me. Because I'm sorry, you don't understand how much I desperately need a happy story of Hilmes. So I finally stopped laying in my puddle of tears, angst, and salt to write one.

I realized the vagueness in my first summary, thanks to a review. So it is a happy AU story that does not follow the main story plot of Arslan Senki. Instead, these will be random short plots in each chapter and drabbles.

I haven't read the novels (the ones translated), but it's on my to do list. I have read spoilers of certain things and I heavily debate whether to use them. However, I don't believe the novel is viewed as much, compared to the anime and the manga. My main issue is I don't want to spoil anyone, so I'll stick with the materials from the anime and manga.

Thank you for reading and feel free to ask any questions!

* * *

Metal sparks flew from his sword as he clashes against another sword. The ringing of iron echoes throughout the courtyard with each hit. The screeching was only unpleasant to those unfamiliar to the dancing of swords.

For the prince of Pars, he was accustomed to this melody. Ever since he could hold a sword in his hand, he was trained in this art.

Left, right, up, down, he parries each move perfectly. He takes a step forward lunging for his opponent, again, again, again. A good defense is a good offensive in his opinion.

However, experience always outweighs youth in these moments.

The force of the strike from his opponent causes him to lose his grip on hilt and his sword flies out his hands.

The prince lost this spar… again.

He stumbles, but doesn't fall. He's learned to not fall on his bottom anymore, which is probably the only win he has in these spars. He's figured out how to take the impact and know where to balance himself after. At least, he can retain some pride.

His instructor really was a skilled warrior. He hopes one day to win a match against him and fight side by side with his father on the battlefield. Ultimately, his dream was to become a worthy king Pars. He wants to make them proud.

"Very good, my prince." The old man man praises while stroking the sides of his beard.

The handmaidens waiting off to the side diligently, they brought over a towel to wipe the prince's long day of training.

The prince smiles at the praises and the feeling of losing eases with each praise.

The prince has duties and expectations and lessons! He must learn everything and everyone. He was the heir, next in line to be king. Then, he too would do the same as his father did before and continue the royal bloodline.

Ah, but such is the fate of royalty.

The prince is expected to have allies, followers, subordinates, but not friends.

The children of nobility were wary and careful of the prince. One false move and off with their heads! But children of nobility and royalty do not play.

Prince or not. He was still only ten, a child and children thirst for attention. His father, the king, had duties for the greater good of the kingdom. The king hardly spent any time with his son. After all, the needs of many outweigh the need of one. His mother, the queen, died from childbirth. The prince's status isolates him from other children of low and high birth. From an early age, he is surrounded by adults and burdened by adult expectations. Adults who have forgotten the ways and joys of childhood.

A messenger runs to them, panting. "A message for you, my prince! You are to return to your chamber to prepare to meet our honored guest later this evening!"

The prince obeys. A prince always obeys… until he ascends the throne, then he is to command, rarely (close to never) obey. A king would hear counsel.

The handmaidens prepare a bath for him and later dress him in the finest. By the time they are done, they were to meet their honored guest.

He meets his father and he greets him with the utmost respect and warmth. The prince was blessed to have a loving father, even if the King did not spend much time with him.

The king was blessed to have a son who understood their duties and to still adorn him with affection. Truly, the king was a proud father.

The prince could see the carriage coming around and he wonders, who is their special guest today? This is the first time today, he's heard they were to have a guest. He hadn't even been informed by a servant or anyone for that manner. As busy as his father was, his father would have said something. It must be someone extremely important. Is his father planning to remarry?

The carriage finally halts at the entrance and a soldier opens the door. An elegant woman emerges with long, light blonde and blue eyes.

He hears. "Tahamine."

No doubt, her beauty was striking and no one could deny it, not even a boy inexperienced in the ways of love. He had to admit, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He may be a boy, but he has seen his fair share of girls and woman. He was the prince who needed a fiance and his father was king who did not have a queen. However, his attention on her was fleeting as a child appears behind her.

The prince is enchanted.

The prince's emerald eyes widen in surprise at the petite and slender child. What catches his attention weren't only the striking features of the child's snowy locks or his lapis eyes. Though, he wouldn't lie and say that those features didn't accentuate the child's grace and purity. No, rather it was the smile. He found it difficult to tell, whether the golden rays of the sun blinded him or because it was the child.

His father,King Osroes walks up to the child. He signals for the child to rise and motions for the prince to come over. King Osroes takes one of the prince's hand and takes one of the child's hand. His father brings their hands together.

The prince's hand entwines with the child's. The prince found that hand to be soft and fragile, a hand that should be protected. Compared to his, which were rough and larger, one that should protect. He almost didn't want to let the warmth conveyed in his palm go.

"My son, Hilmes meet your new younger brother, Arslan."


	2. Chapter 1

I guess you could say Hilmes will be out of character because he's not on full VENGEANCE mode. But yea, feel free to ask me any questions or any constructive criticism! Sorry for any grammar mistakes for this and last chapter.

* * *

As expected, his father was remarrying to the newly widowed Tahamine. He didn't mind too much because he didn't know his mother very well, she died when he was born. If his father decided, then it was decided and plus, Tahamine was nice enough. At first, he thought she was a cold woman, but her actions spoke louder than her words.

It was an understatement to state that these past few months that they were busy. The wedding was the talk and the highlight of the Pars Kingdom. So, it wasn't just the royal palace that had been working hard, but the entire city, Ecbatana.

He was told marriage was an important holy ritual and the most imperative event in a man's life. They were celebratory, a new beginning. However… he finds that far from the truth. They were a nightmare! He can't imagine his own. Just thinking about the whole ordeal and what he has to go though gives him a headache. Even more of a pain when knows he will and must have one in the future.

He nearly spat out his drink when Marzban Kubard asked what kind of girl he liked. The most humiliating part came afterward when everyone tried to counsel him and treated him like a child. Marzban Kharlan and Shapur ended up arguing with Kubard for half the celebration until the man apologized. Really wasn't much an apology in his opinion. It was no secret that Shapur and Kubard have a friendly rivalry going on, so he was sure Shapur joined in with Kharlan just to gang up on the man.

During those past months, his training and lessons were placed on hold. Any lessons he did have were about the wedding rituals and marriage. He spent much of his time with the Arslan because everyone else was completely wrapped up with the wedding business.

There were a few kids of his age and near his status, but he didn't like to talk to a majority of them. All they did was pretend to like him and they didn't particularly like him. He prefers to spend his time with the soldier's children. They were more honest and interesting. However, there weren't many around his age and he wasn't exactly the best at dealing with kids.

Still better than nothing. He was pretty sure he'd die of boredom from the whole ceremony.

The king and queen consummated their marriage a day ago and left this morning to travel to friends, other families, and lords that could not attend the wedding. Vahriz was left in charge temporarily since he was the Eran.

After the departure, it was straight to the usual lessons, politics, fighting, and at the end of it all free time. He hasn't seen Arslan all day, poor kid was probably being hammered with lessons after lessons of Par's history. Since the boy was now part of the royal family, he has to learn everything.

He shudders at the long lessons he had been forced to go through. He still has some histories lessons left, but at least he's gone through a good portion.

Instead of enjoying his break at the courtyard and reading his book, his mind drifts to his new sibling.

The child was from Tahamine's previous marriage.

Arslan was not a bad kid, in fact quite the opposite of him. He was meek, gentle hearted, soft, and... he didn't want to be mean or anything, but the child was kind of weak. Arslan was thin and short! He swears the boy needs more meat on his bones. It wasn't just the boy's appearance, but his personality and taste were quite also effeminate. He can't imagine how he'll fare sparing.

"Hilmes."

For a boy of only seven, he was incredibly polite... more so than he was when he was seven. Well, that's not to say he wasn't polite when he saw seven! It's just most children had to consciously be polite because he sure was like that… okay he was still like that. Arslan was a boy that already had a kind and courteous disposition. He bet the boy couldn't be mean even if he tried.

"Hilmes."

Surely, Arslan will grow out it?

"Hilmes."

A tug to his shirt and he's back to reality. He comes face to face with the person that occupied his thoughts earlier.

When did Arslan get here? "Arslan. I didn't see you there."

Arslan cheeks puff up in a pout.

"Did you need something?" He quickly asks before the child becomes even more upset. He's really no good with children, especially a crying child. However, he notices that the child wasn't serious about being upset.

Arslan sits down next to him on the grass underneath the tree. "I was curious about what you're doing."

"Reading."

Arslan tilts his head. "What are you reading? Is it interesting?"

Actually… he didn't even open the book because his mind had drifted away earlier. "I didn't start to be honest."

"I'm sorry, did I interrupt?"

Those wide lapis eyes looks at him apologetically, no one could get angry with that expression. Arslan could get away from practically anything if he flashes that puppy eye expression all the time. However, he could tell the boy wasn't doing it on purpose.

"No. I wasn't interested in reading it." He simply shrugs and he receives a warm smile, one that was glad for not bothering him.

They sit in a comfortable silence and bask in each other's company.

He glances up when he feels something on top of his head and he brings it down.

"A flower crown for the prince." Arslan giggles.

What a pleasant laugh, but notices that besides Arslan are the flowers growing torn from the ground. Ah, the boy doesn't realize that's a bed the gardener purposely grew to decorate the courtyard. The gardener is going to pitch a fit when he finds the flower bed ruined.

"You are a prince too."

"Hmm, but I'd think you'd do a better job."

He raises an eyebrow. "Why do you say that?"

Arslan taps his chin with a finger, contemplating. "You look cool when you're fighting."

He blinks surprise and feels rather flattered, though strength is no way to measure how fit someone is to rule a kingdom.

The boy's cheeks redden in embarrassment. "I-I-I mean I just saw you, while I was up there… and… I didn't mean to stare."

He shakes his head. "There's nothing to apologize for. Soon, you'll have lessons too."

The boy didn't look to excited by that news. "You know a lot of stuff."

That doesn't mean much either and he explains simply. "I'm older than you, so I've had more lessons than you."

"You have a crown."

He glances down at the ring of flowers in his hand and he scoffs gently. "This isn't a real crown and if you want one, you can have it back."

Arslan frowns. "But that's yours. I made it for you."

He thinks about what to do because a frown did not suit the child's face. The ruined flower bed catches his attention. "Give me some flowers, I'll make a one for you." The flower bed is already destroyed so might as well use them before the gardener replaces it.

Arslan perks up and eagerly hands him some flowers.

Truthfully, he's never made a wreath of flowers, but how hard could it be?

…

…

Oh, how those words came to bite him.

Arslan was giggling as he fumbles around. "Are you sure you know how to make one?"

His pride doesn't allow him to admit the truth. He expects the boy to jeer at him and relish in pride that a child knew more than he did in something

"Here."

However, that was all Arslan addresses and shows him step-by-step how to create a crown of flowers.

What an odd child.

Eventually, he forges a crown… if one could call it a crown.

"I like it."

He finds it hard to believe, but the glimmer in the boy's eyes shows otherwise. "If you think so."

"No, I know so."

The child stretches his hand for him to give the crown and he obliges. He's confused at how pleased the boy is from a flower headdress. It's nothing special.

"I want a wedding like mother's." The child lips stretch from side to side joyfully, recalling the memories from yesterday.

Clearly, he and Arslan have different opinions about this. He found the ceremony to be tedious and dry. "Why?"

"Hmm, it was such a nice day. Everyone was smiling and happy and having fun!"

He guess so, but… in reality, he knew that marriage arrangement were business deals. The happiness, hopefully, comes after. The ceremony is to solidify the agreement under everyone and god. The party is to wish them luck and fertility. He wants to voice all this to the boy and teach him a life lesson... but there's something about Arslan that he can't brings himself to say anything distasteful. He's compelled to protect that shine.

He keeps quiet.

He's reluctant to break the jewel.

"This reminds me of mother's wedding."

"How so?"

"Hmm, these aren't rings, but they're circular and we exchanged them and now we're wearing them. So… does that mean we're having a wedding ceremony?"

… He lets that sink in before his eyes widen in surprise and his cheeks heat up.

"Hilmes?"

He doesn't answer, but let his knees cover his face. Did Arslan even realize what he just said?

"Hilmes! What did I say?!"

Apparently not.

It was in that moment that Hilmes realizes how dangerously innocent Arslan was.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 46 was a long time ago, but that chapter reinforces how much of a sweetie Arslan is. He needs to be protected T^T

A reminder because I recently added this to the prologue, but I realized the vagueness in my first summary, thanks to a review. So it is a happy AU story that does not follow the main story plot of Arslan Senki. Instead, these will be random short plots in each chapter and drabbles.

* * *

To say the least… Hilmes is not impressed, especially with that black haired kid who he disli- ah, no that would be childish of him to say.

After all, he is a prince and beyond such childish thoughts. Yes, so... that black haired kid who he finds disagreeable.

He knew the first moment they met, they were never going to get along with each other. He can't explain the cause of these ill feelings between them. Perhaps it's the way that kid walks and talks.

Never mind the fact, that said kid is the same age as him and so not a kid. Then he'd have to admit he's a kid too since they were the age. _However_ that is not at all important.

If Arslan wasn't so fond of Daryun, then he would have punished him for being so disrespectful!

Speaking of Arslan, his little brother began his sword lessons a week ago with Vahriz as his instructor. So his little brother was quite enthusiastic in joining him during his sword practice time. Of course, he has no objections and would have been fine with teaching Arslan. It would have been fun with just the two of them.

That is… if _someone_ didn't butt in and start hogging all the attention.

He watches Daryun show different swings and stances to Arslan. The boy absorbs it all in like a sponge and eagerly imitates the movements. He half expected his brother to be discouraged or irritating as most children are when they're often corrected by someone older.

Suddenly, the boy beams and waves towards his direction. He waves back awkwardly, he didn't realize he had been staring. He should be practicing!

With each swing, he imagines hitting Daryun.

Arslan nods. "Thank you, Daryun. I think I understand!"

"Shall we start, Your Highness?" Daryun asks.

Hilmes focuses his full attention to the spar that's about to happen. He'll be able to help Arslan and critici- offer advice to Daryun. The two stood face to face.

In fact, Daryun and Arslan stood there for a long time at an impasse.

It's clear that the knight-to-be dotes on the boy and didn't want to hurt the child. He understand how Daryun feels; even though he doesn't want to relate to him at all. However, Daryun should have just let him spar, but the knight-to-be can't refuse a request from royalty.

At least, he'd be able to fight Arslan… he thinks...

On the other hand, Arslan was mainly unsure what to do. He had only begun his training and he spent most of his lessons guarding.

So both hesitate to strike first.

He could foresee what a long day this will be….

"Your Highness! Are you hurt?!"

There goes Daryun again.

He swears he hears more "Your Highness!" than the sounds of the blades clashing together. The spar is turning less and less into a fight and more about fussing over the boy. Only one strike and Daryun panics over the young boy.

The most fighting he's seen is the younger boy is convincing Daryun that everything is okay.

He will admit _one_ redeeming quality about Daryun, his loyalty. So he should be grateful his little brother has such a great dog guarding over him. Not to say that he couldn't also protect his little brother! But the more, the better.

It was hard to picture a weapon in those gentle hands.

"Your Highness! Please, tell me when I should stop?!"

"I'm okay!" Arslan cries, his voice quivering.

Oh amazing, Daryun managed to strike three consecutive hits and each time Arslan blocked them. So they are getting somewhere.

It was obvious, the signs of strain and weariness from those three tries. Hilmes is awfully amazed at the boy's perseverance. It was clear this spar wasn't going anywhere for Arslan, yet why did he want to keep going?

 _To become stronger_.

What else reason is there, but that?

If that's the case, then Arslan should just outright command him to cease all this coddling! When he began sparring, he didn't need anyone fussing over him.

But he knew Arslan's heart is big and that would never happen.

"Hey, if you keep this up, he'll never learn and that will put his life in even more danger."

Daryun clearly wants to protest somehow at him, but in the end, reluctantly mutters. "I know…your Highness."

That came out a lot more strained than normally, but Hilmes didn't mind. It's a win his book.

"I think his Highness is too young to be sparring with me."

Arslan looks down on to the floor dejectedly at Daryun's words

"How would you know when you kept interrupting the spar?"

Arslan instantly perks up at Hilmes words.

"I did not!" Daryun sputters incredulously.

The most adult thing to do is to not retort back with a "did too!" But being an adult is tiring.

"Did too!" Hilmes retorts back, dealing with Daryun irritates him and especially when it involves Arslan.

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

Truthfully, most adults don't even know how to be adults. Sometimes they pretend to know.

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

The two boys didn't realize they had inched closer to intimidate each other. The swords in their hands itching to attack each other.

Poor Arslan watches helplessly as they argue back and forth. "Please don't ah!" His pleas went unheard and instead, the two began to fight. Each time the swords collide, he could feel his heart jump out from fear.

He doesn't know why Daryun and Hilmes don't get along. They were both really kind and caring people. He hopes that if they spent more time together, they'll eventually become friends.

Hilmes charges for Daryun and lands kick.

They are completely serious about hurting each other and he had to stop them before that happens. He could feel tears welling up in him, but he isn't suppose to cry. He's suppose to be strong, strong so he could protect the one he cares for. That's right… so he takes a deep breath, gathering his strength and cries. "STOP!"

The two froze in place with Daryun's sword hovering above Hilmes. The sound of Arslan's voice surprise them, they didn't expect that the soft spoken boy could yell like that. However, the surprise didn't last long when they notice the pools forming around the boy's eyes.

They scramble to their feet and drop their swords onto the ground without a second thought. However, Daryun reaches to Arslan first at the expense of pushing Hilmes. "Your Highness! Why are you crying?! If there is a problem, I will handle it!"

Hilmes fumes like a cat at Daryun. "How dare you push me?!"

Daryun huffs. "I did no such thing! I merely went to his Highness Arslan, who is bothered by something."

"You do realize I'm a prince too. The next in line?"

Arslan can't handle another disagreement and he pushes them apart. The small frame against much bigger frames. "No more fighting! Please, don't fight!"

Those pleading and bright eyes stun them both that the animosity dissipated in that moment.

"We weren't fighting!" Daryun blurts.

"We were sparring!" Hilmes clarifies.

Arslan sniffles, tilting his head. "Really?"

"Really." Both reply together and react instantly with disgust for speaking at the same time.

Arslan stares at them. The typical, dubious stare that a child gives to an adult when he doesn't believe them.

Daryun turns to meet Hilmes eyes and Hilmes turns to meet Daryun eyes. As if they could communicate telepathically, they knew what needs to be done.

Daryun clears his throat and offers his hand to Hilmes. "Prince Hilmes… I am grateful for the practice and I hope to serve the royal family."

Hilmes returns the gesture. "Yes… thank you for the spar... you're skills are good."

Arslan is elated over the two reconciling.

However….

What he doesn't see is the strain on their smiles and the pressure of their grip, while they shook hands.


End file.
